


Fiance to Fuck Toy

by trashrings



Category: Original Work
Genre: Amputation Kink, Daddy Kink, Face-Fucking, Forced Orgasm, Humiliation, I just wanted to write some ridiculous trash, Immobility, Kink, M/M, Master/Slave, Mind Control, Multiple Orgasms, Objectification, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Denial, Owner/toy, Ownership, Self-Indulgent, That's basically everything here, fuck toy, magical amputation, nullification, that's what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-14 09:10:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14132859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashrings/pseuds/trashrings
Summary: In Cole's world, marriage means ownership, whether symbolic or literal. He wants nothing more than to have ti be literal. He wants to be owned, completely utterly. Perhaps this was why he fell for a charming magician specializing in sexual magics. Though he's too timid to breach the subject during their relationship, he finally offers up his orgasms on their wedding night, sealing his fate.





	Fiance to Fuck Toy

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: This story walks the border between consensual and dubcon. It deals with some weird and heavy kinks. There is a strong focus on magical (ie painless/bloodless) amputation with some mind fuckery and subtle mind control.

Cole lay on his back on the hard table, his unfocused gaze pointed in the general direction of the ceiling. His cock ached between his thighs, still demanding a release it hadn’t known in a long time. The overwhelming need left Cole’s head fuzzy and drifting, barely making a sound anymore. Every nerve in his body demanded what he couldn’t have. No that wasn’t quite right. It was with he _shouldn’t_ have. But even if he did want it, he couldn’t claim it. Not easily. How long had it been since he’d even touched his own cock? He couldn’t recall. Just how long had it been since any of this started? Time had become such a strange concept lately, moment stretching into hours, days passing in a blur. Time didn’t matter anymore. It hadn’t always been this way, every moment filled with desperate need.

In fact, there hadn’t been anything like this at the beginning.

When he and his Sir had begun their courtship, he’d known what his Sir did for a living. A magician, a wizard, a man who worked with very particular magics. He specialty had been sex. Using orgasms or the lack thereof to fuel various spells. Helping people with their dysfunctions or providing them with something new. Sometimes changing people’s parts completely for them. Officially, what he did was called Body Magic. The power to manipulate physical forms with the right spells. He just preferred to focus on one particular area. Cole knew this going into the relationship. It was what had drawn him to Sir in the beginning. Playful fantasies about just what a man with such magic might be capable of. However, he’d played coy in the beginning, not wanting Sir to think that was his reason for starting the relationship. Their courtship had been completely standard and painfully vanilla, as Cole struggled to find the right way to offer himself fully and completely. Though he was never jealous of the others that Sir worked with, there was a very particular sort of longing, watching young men and women coming and going. Sometimes he would find excuses to visit the workshop while Sir worked, watching the way he made people writhe in pleasure.

He thought perhaps marriage would be the moment when he could make his intent clear. The marriage ceremony was one of very archaic traditions. No matter the gender or position of the pair in the union, technically one of them would be owned by the other. For most this was purely symbolic, and meant nothing except on paper. But it was something Cole had thought about since he’d come of age. The idea of being actually owned, completely, by a strong and powerful man like his Sir had fueled many dark fantasies. The ceremony was marked by a collar being locked around the neck of the owned party and a key on a chain around the neck of the owner. In most ceremonies, it was purely symbolic. A delicate chain with a token lock. In their planning, Cole kept presenting ideas of true, strict collars, but at first Sir thought it was a joke. At last he convinced Sir he was serious about his symbol and they settled on something fitting. A broad leather band that came down to a point wrapped around a thick ring. At the front was a socket for a gem or medallion in the center. The back closed in a thick buckle that could be locked shut.

Most said the kiss that closed the ceremony was their magical moment. But for Cole, the moment the lock clicked shut would be one he would remember for the rest of his days.

It was at their honeymoon that he finally found the courage to ask. Laying on the bed in nothing but his new collar, Sir’s hands exploring his body, he finally said it. “I want you to own more than just me,” he said.

“You don’t have to say that,” his Sir said, kissing his neck.

“I…mean it…” Cole insisted, trying to keep his thoughts together. “I want my orgasms to belong to you.”

Sir sat up enough to look at him, his expression unreadable.

“Grant them or keep them. As many or as few as you wish me to have. Nothing I say can change it. No safeword, no demand. I give them to you fully and completely.”

Sir took him by the hands, interlocking their fingers. “Are you sure you know what you’re offering?”

“Absolutely.” Cole caught his lower lip between his teeth as Sir pushed his hands into the sheets. “I want you do all you do to the people you work on. And more. You own me now. I am yours to do with as you please.” He swallowed, his mouth going dry, as Sir looked him over, his eyes full of something that Cole couldn’t quite name. “I’ve…I’ve been wanting to ask. Basically since always. What—what you do. It’s hotter than anything. But I didn’t want you think that I, you know, that I wanted you just for that. And I figured—”

He cut off as Sir suddenly laughed. It was a warm, amused burst of laughter that spoke of a tension that had suddenly broken. He dipped his head, with a look Cole had never seen before. He was _bashful_. “Oh, Cole. You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to offer. I was worried I’d scare you off. Not everyone can handle some of that stuff.”

“Oh I can handle it!” Cole blurted out. “If you’ll have me.” He swallowed again and for the first time addressed the man above him properly. “Sir.”

Sir leaned down, lips pressed to his ear. He spoke softly, his breath hot against his skin. “Then from now on, you only cum when given permission.”

Cole practically melted into the bed as a shiver ran down his spine. That night, Sir granted him what would be the last orgasm he would have for quite some time. After hours of teasing, stroking, and making him beg for it. It was more intense than anything he’d experienced before and yet was only a preview of what was in store for him.

“If I own you, then we must have rules,” Sir declared as they returned home a few days later. “While within the walls, and when we do not have guests, clothes are forbidden.” To show his eagerness, Cole stripped off his clothes on the spot. “And you’ll need something to go with that collar…”

Sir led him through to his workshop, where he opened a tall closet to reveal a rack of leather straps. He pulled down four of them, one each for his wrists and ankles. As he fastened each one he muttered a word, their tails melding into the rest of the cuffs, sealing them shut. It left him wearing bands of leather with four rings around each extremity. “Perfect.” Sir said, examining his work. Cole hadn’t even been touched yet and he was nearly hard.

“And from now on, you won’t even touch your cock without permission.” Cole opened his mouth to protest, but Sir held up a finger. “I’m sure you’ll figure things out.” He winked with a warm smile. The emphasize this, he clipped the wrist cuffs together behind Cole’s back to prevent temptation.

“With your gracious offer,” Sir continued, snagging Cole by the ring at the front of his collar to lead him across the room. “I can start on something I’ve been trying to do for some time.” They stopped by a table scattered with gems and stones that glittered with their own internal light. He picked up one that was an icy blue, swirling like a galaxy at its center. “This,” he explained as he examined it in the light, “Collects energy from willfully withheld orgasms. With enough time, it can fuel some pretty powerful spells, but I haven’t had anyone willing to volunteer for a long enough term to make it work.”

“H…how long?” Cole asked, his cock already twitching at the idea.

“ _Months._ ” Sir seemed almost giddy with the idea. “But only if you’re up for it. I wouldn’t want to push you into—”

“I’ll do it!” Cole said before he lost his nerve. Months without orgasm seemed impossible, but he wanted anything Sir would do to him.

Smiling, Sir set to removing the decorative gem from Cole’s collar, before snapping the new one into place. The moment it clicked, Cole felt a strange, tingling energy flood through him him, followed by a surge straight to his groin. It was almost enough to make his knees weak. He let out a gasping moan, suddenly throbbing. “Oh…god…” he breathed out.

“Yeah, sometimes it does that. It makes you want that orgasm more and more the longer you hold it off.”

Cole let out a breath, trying to get his bearings. “This is going to be…interesting…” he managed to say.

“I’m going to give you a little mantra to help you through it,” Sir said. “Repeat after me.”

Once given the phrase, Cole said it back, the words heavy on his tongue. “Good boys don’t cum.”

“Again.”

“Good boys don’t cum,” he repeated, a bit more smoothly. Then again and again, until it felt natural. It seemed to have the opposite effect, however, making him want it more. Reminding him of what he’d given up.

Interesting turned out to be an understatement. The days that followed where a whirlwind of visceral need. Sir teased and fucked him, played with him and cuddled with him, never once allowing him to orgasm. Days stretched into weeks and it got to a point where he wouldn’t even get fully soft between their sessions. A constant, low-level demand for attention and release thrummed through him every moment of every day. And never once was he allowed to touch himself. His new mantra became his most frequently spoken words, uttering it every time he felt a new surge of need.

In time he proved he could control his hands and didn’t have to be restrained when unsupervised, and at first it wasn’t too much of a challenge. However, with that gem on his throat, whispering in his ear about how much he wanted it, temptation got the best of him. He was in the bathroom near Sir’s workshop, attempting to tame his wild blond curls, when sounds began drifting through the vents. Sir’s client was moaning out barely intelligible pleas for release. Putting down the comb, Cole pressed both hands to the cool counter, letting out a few breaths. The sounds continued, his aching cock leaking already. He tried to remind himself to behave, to keep his hands away from his cock. But what would a few touches matter? Sir was busy, he wouldn’t even know.

Before he could find a counter argument, his fingers wrapped around his shaft for the first time in weeks. That first stroke alone chased away any idea of stopping. It wasn’t long before he found himself on his knees, his free hand pressed to the floor, sliding his hand over his cock in long, deep strokes. “Good boys don’t cum…” he muttered to himself, feeling that burn deep inside him building already. “Good boys don’t cum…good boys don’t cum…” He uttered it on every other breath, growing louder each time. He slumped back against the wall with a loud, desperate grown. “Good boys don’t cum!” He told himself, but he couldn’t stop. It felt too good.

“No, they don’t.” Sir’s voice was right there in the room with him.

His eyes snapped open, pulling his hand away from his cock. Sir stood in the door, watching him. There was a glint in his eye, as if he were trying to not smile. “It seems I was far too lenient with you.” His tone was firm but not harsh. “I figured it was only a matter of time before you forced my hand.”

Sir didn’t wait for Cole to get to his feet under his own steam. He hauled the younger man to his feet by one arm, practically dragging him out of the room. “I—I’m sorry!” Cole blurted out. “I didn’t mean—I wasn’t going to. I swear. I’m good! I just couldn’t help myself. I promise it won’t happen again!”

“Oh, it absolutely won’t.” He dragged Cole into the workshop. The client had gone. Had they finished or had he been dismissed early? But as Sir pushed him down into a chair, he realized he wasn’t entirely sure how long he’d been stroking himself. He could see out the window that the sun had begun to set, but it had been much higher in the sky when he’d gone into the bathroom. Maybe he did deserve whatever Sir had in store for him.

“Please, sir. You don’t have to do this.” His heart hammered in his chest. He’d seen what he’d done for and to people in this chair. It wasn’t fear that claimed him, but a desperate sort of thrill. “I’ll be good! You can…you can keep me cuffed, always. Lock me to your bed! I won’t don it again!” Empty pleading as he envisioned all that might be waiting for him as Sir fixed thick straps over his torso, pinning him to the chair.

“We’re going to make sure you don’t. And give you a little extra incentive to…stay good.” He knelt down and began fastening Cole’s ankles to the chair.

Cole tugged at the bonds, but like the straps around his wrists, they weren’t buckled, they were sealed. “Please!” He begged. “I just—it was just a moment! That’s it!”

From the table nearby, Sir grabbed a plain gray stone, muttering a few words as he waved his hand over it. It glowed for a moment before fading back to it’s bland gray surface. “Open.” Was all he said, holding the stone before Cole’s lips. Reluctantly, Cole parted his lips enough for Sir to shove the stone inside. The moment it touched his tongue, his mouth closed tight around it. He found that the stone sat perfectly in his mouth, and it was impossible to part his teeth or lips, as if they’d been glued shut. He pawed at his lips, trying to open them, letting out a wordless, muffled protest that dissolved into a muffled moan. It should have been horrifying, but it only turned him on further.

Sir took one wrist in his hands, and for the first time since their honeymoon, released the strap held there. “I wouldn’t fight it if I were you. It just hastens the process.”

Cole wanted to demand just what process that could be. What the thing on his tongue was doing to him. But as he reached for the word “stone”, it slipped through his fingers like so much water. Each word he tried to find relating to it was there, then gone, as if being siphoned off. He could imagine the thing, he _knew_ what it was. But the label was just not there any more. Each new word he tried to claim, consciously, slipped away. His head dropped back with a whimper, realizing just what the process was. Better than any gag that could tied around his head or stuffed into his mouth. Taking away his very words. It was almost enough to make him dizzy.

Sir had finished removing his wrist straps, and began wrapping some sort of gauzy material around his hands. It was a thin, wispy material, the same icy blue as the stone at his throat. It made his skin tingle, like the feeling of mint on his tongue. Sir carefully wrapped each finger, covering every inch of skin with the strange blue material. All the while he kept trying to find words he could remember, but it was as if he was showing the stone which ones to take next. He watched, hazily, as Sir wrapped the gauze all the way up to his shoulders. He flexed his fingers, feeling the tingle radiate deep into his bones.

Another layer wrapped around the first, binding his fingers together and turning his hands into mittens. A third layer curled those bound fingers over each thumb, making a loose fist. Though the material seemed weak and thin, it held Cole’s fingers as fast as if it were leather. Finally, his balled fists were pressed to his shoulders, and several layers of the material wrapped around each arm so tightly he couldn’t so much as wiggle his forearms or hands. That fresh, cool tingle seemed to be reaching into his very core, disorienting him further.

Sir’s fingers trailed first over his needy cock, making him twitch, then up to his chin. “Sit tight, this takes some time to work.”

Cole let out a needy protest, his hips lifting toward Sir, wanting more attention. But Sir walked away to focus on something across the workshop.

How long Cole sat there, he couldn’t say. He squirmed under his bonds, trying to protest. Trying to demand attention. But being ignored just made the tease so much worse. It was well after sunset before Sir returned to him. He inspected everything with out a word at first, fingers running over Cole’s body and over his lips. It as then that he realized Sir didn’t touch his bound arms. In fact, he couldn’t feel anything from his arms, the minty burn had faded some time ago.

“Now for the fun part,” Sir said with a smile, very pleased with himself. He felt around the bandaging on Cole’s left arm, until he found the right piece. He muttered a soft word in that magic language Cole didn’t understand, and gave the fabric a tug. A moment later, he did the same to the right. At the same time, both sides unraveled instantly, soft blue fabric falling in piles at his sides. Something wasn’t right, however.

Cole looked at his sides, his head twisting to make sure he was seeing this right. His arms were just _gone_. His sides continued up to his shoulders, the skin as smooth as if there had never been anything there. He looked to Sir, a spike of fear shooting through him.

“It’s okay,” Sir said, his hands settling on Cole’s now much narrower shoulders. “It’s not permanent. Technically. I can give them back at any time, with a simple reversal. I saw the way you watched that pair in here last week. I thought you might like something like that for yourself.”

Cole’s cheeks burned red hot. Only the did he realize he could still understand every word that Sir said, he just couldn’t think of the words to use in return. The pair in question were two women in a similar sort of marriage as their. The owned woman had her arms removed below the elbow, and her legs below the knee. He’d seen them leaving, and had watched with far more interest than he’d realized. To drive the home, Sir rubbed the skin where his arms had once been and pulled away.

“There is one way to seal this spell and make it permanent,” he said as he started gathering the fabric into a lacquered box. “If you orgasm, even a ruined one, the reversal becomes incredibly difficult. Next to impossible, really.”

Cole let out a whimper, his thighs trembling.

“Let’s call it a little added incentive, shall we?”

Cole’s hips jerked, unable to control himself. Sir knew just how to push his buttons.

Once the box was closed up and placed on a shelf, Sir returned to him. Running a thumb over his lips, he muttered a few more words and at last his lips unsealed. He spit out the wrong, drool falling over his chin. Sir didn’t bother to wipe it for him as he returned to his work table with the stone. Cole thought perhaps once it was away form him, his words would return. But as he sat there trying to wipe his damp chin on his shoulder, he couldn’t come up with a single word. He tried to speak, but all he could make were incoherent sounds. It was disorienting, desperate, and hotter than he thought possible.

Sir worked over something, the stone still in his hands, muttering incantations over it. When he finally turned around, he held what appeared to be a glass of shimmering green liquid in one hand, and the stone in the other. The stone had several scrapes on its surface that hadn’t been there before. “I’m going to restore a _few_ words to you. But only a few. And the same applies here. If you orgasm, I can’t give any more back to you.”

Licking his lips, Cole nodded, opening his mouth for Sir. The glass touched his lips, and he drank slowly. A soft burn flooded through him as he drank, flooding up through his torso into his head. No words sprang to mind as Sir stepped back, but everything swirled together, a storm of sensation and images and emotions.

“Allow me to find what I gave you,” Sir said, setting the glass down. “How do you ask for something?”

“Please!” Cole said, without hesitation.

“Very good. Now, what is your mantra?”

“Good boys don’t cum.” Okay, that was good.

“Excellent. Now.” Sir looked over his shoulder, a sly smile on his face. “What do you call me?”

Oh, he knew this one. Easy. But as Cole reached for the word, he found something else. A word that even thinking of it made his face burn. A blush that flooded down his chest. Why was that word there?

“It’s the last one. I know you know what it is,” Sir teased.

At first Cole tried to say the one it should be, but nothing came out. Then, slowly, hesitantly, he said, meekly, “…Daddy…”

Sir’s face glowed with a broad smile. “There, that wasn’t so hard was it? Why don’t you say it again. In fact, show me how to _really_ ask for permission.”

Shame burned deep into Cole. But it collided with his arousal, making everything in his body throb with his pulse. Sir’s fingers hooked under his chin, forcing him to look up at the other man. “…please Daddy…” he finally said, his voice wavering.

To show his pleasure, Sir leaned down and kissed him. Hard. Everything in Cole burned fiercely. It all mingled together into a white-hot slurry inside him. When he’d imagined it at the start, he’d never thought it would be like this. He’d never thought it would be even a fraction of this.

Soon after he was released from the chair. He thought without even the temptation of being able to touch himself, things would be somewhat easier. But he’d been wrong. So very wrong. Sir took to attaching a leash to Cole’s collar and leading him around the house. Often, Sir would hook the leash somewhere and leave Cole waiting. It wouldn’t be tied or fastened. Just hooked in a place that would require a hand to lift it free. Even a bound hand could do the trick. It was maddening, being so helpless. Frustrating in every possible way. This was not a restraint he could squirm against or eventually be released from.

Then there was the matter of his voice. There were only three things he could say. Nothing more. When left alone, he’d try. Any word. Any syllable. He could picture things, put together concepts. But like his arms the words simply weren’t there. He tried to piece apart his mantra, trying to use the individual words. But it was as if the phrase existed as one solid block in his mind. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t say just one of the words, unless he started at the beginning and stopped himself early. It was worse than spending his days bound and gagged. And it meant he spent more time than he thought possible completely hard.

Somewhere along the way, he decided it wasn’t enough. Perhaps it was the product of boredom, or something else entirely. But he didn’t want to just be Sir’s pet that he led around the house. He wanted to an object. Something owned. Not even a slave, but a toy.

He was sitting on a cushion in the workshop, while Sir finished up after a client had left. Twisting around, Cole pressed his back to the cushion and slammed the heel of his foot against the wall. He let out a wordless groan, demanding attention.

“Stop that. I’ll play with you in a moment.”

Cole kicked the wall again.

“You don’t want more of your last punishment, do you?” Sir slid his gaze over to Cole finally.

Cole just grinned as he hammered his heels against the wall, letting out a needy groan. Maybe the constant arousal was just finally driving him mad.

Sir raised an eyebrow, putting down his tools. “Very well.”

He didn’t put Cole in the chair that time. Instead, he lifted Cole onto the table, where he was strapped down. A very similar process as before happened with his legs. Sir wrapped that same gauzy material from his toes up to just over his knees. Each individual toe wrapped, then wrapped as a whole. He did not fold his legs, however, adding only one final layer.

“But that’s not your only punishment,” Sir said as Cole let the cool burn seep into his bones. “For your little fit, you’ll go a full month without your desperate little cock being touched.” To drive the point home, he reached toward Cole’s shaft, his hand hovering around it without actually touching it. Cole could feel the heat of his hand, and his hips jerked toward it. But Sir pulled his hand away. “Thirty days. Then we’ll see how you behave.”

Again Cole was left alone while the strange cold burn in his legs slowly faded. Sir wasn’t serious, was he. A whole month without being touched? Was that even possible? He must have been exaggerating. He’d go mad if he didn’t get some sort of sensation. Then again, the teasing was threatening to drive him there, anyway. Constant denial, so often barely held back. Only the threat of losing his arms and his words forever kept him from giving in. He tried to squirm on the table, tried to use his thighs to get some sort of sensation, but he was strapped down far too tightly. And yet, his cock seemed to be growing harder. The thought of being left desperate and denied of even a tease. He dreaded it, yet at the same time it made his heart race with anticipation. He almost wished he’d asked Sir for this sooner.

When the time came, Sir removed the bandages in a similar flourish. And just as before they unraveled to reveal nothing below his thighs. Sir placed the bandages in another painted box, which went on the shelf beside the first first box and the scraped stone. Sir returned and took his time freeing the straps that held Cole to the table.

Cole sat up with a great deal of effort. Getting up without the help of his arms had been one thing. But now he couldn’t use his legs nearly as much, couldn’t use his feet to get the right leverage. By the time he sat up properly, he was panting. Not from effort, but from arousal. It drove home just how helpless he really was now. He had nothing left to really move himself. Nothing to manipulate the world around him. He looked up at Sir, letting out a soft whimper. Sir only lifted an eyebrow. Expectant. Commanding. “Please…” he muttered. But Sir didn’t budge. “…please…Daddy…” It had been weeks and still the word made shame burn bright in his face when he said it.

Smiling, Sir lifted him off the table and carried him out of the workshop.

Sir held to his promise to not touch him for a month. Beyond the necessary cleaning and other such things, which was purely clinical, Sir didn’t touch his cock. Oh, he continued to fuck Cole on a regular basis, but mostly his throat. Most of the time Cole spent secured in places where he couldn’t even roll over to get a little friction for himself. Without limbs, the simplest things could keep him in place. Sir added two rings to the sides of his collar. Clipping those into anchor points was typically all it took.

At long last, the month came to an end. Cole didn’t think it was possible to be so achingly frustrated from _not_ being touched. But as the days blurred together, he found the lack of attention even worse than being stroked every day. Because part of him still wanted to beg for that orgasm. Even if he lacked the words for it, he still wanted to beg, and cry, and bargain. Anything for a reprieve from this constant pressure.

When Sir’s fingers trailed over his cock, unexpectedly one evening, a shock shot through him so suddenly he thought he might cum in an instant. He writhed against the sheets, instantly muttering “Good boys don’t cum.”

“Oh good, you still remember,” Sir said, starting to slowly stroke Cole.

His body trembled, but in a moment he regained control. Cole took a few slowly breaths, calming himself down. “Please…” he whimpered. “Please Daddy…” That was a mistake, feeling the shame turn the arousal up a few more notches. The words dissolved into pitiful whimpers again.

Sir didn’t stop right away, continuing to stroke for a few more moments. Only then did he give Cole a reprieve, as he moved around to get onto the bed himself. “You’re going to come over here, and show me just how much you appreciate that I’ve ended your punishment early.” Early? It felt like it had been a year rather than a month. How little time had passed, then?

Cole squirmed around enough to lift his head. Sir was leaning against the pillows. Cole was at the foot of the bed. To anyone else, that distance would have meant nothing. He could have reached a hand out and touched the thick cock that Sir’s fist wrapped around. But he couldn’t reach out. Cole let out a sound, confused. How could he reach that?

“I’m sure you can figure it out…” Sir said with a wicked smile.

Cole pushed himself around as best as he could, finally rolling over on to his stomach. He’d spent the last however long being kept from moving. He hadn’t yet figured out how to coordinate his truncated and otherwise missing limbs to actually move himself. The way Sir watched him, he wondered if that was intentional. “Please…” he muttered, his chin pressed into the sheets. “Please, Daddy…” How was he supposed to get all the way up there.

In response, Sir just started stroking his own cock. Slow, teasing strokes. He let out a soft moan. All Cole could think about was wrapping his lips around it. It had been some time since he’d been aloud to simply suck his master’s cock. Sir had more used his throat than allowed him to participate. And now as he imaged it in his mouth he wasn’t entirely sure which one he wanted more.

That motivated him. Some how he managed to get moving. Squirming and scooting up the sheets. But he soon discovered why Sir was making him do this. His hips dragged along the bedding, rocking hard against his cock trapped between him and the matters. Each movement rubbing against him. All of that sensation he’d been denied. It didn’t take long before he was panting, muttering “good boys don’t cum,” as he continued trying to move. Finally, after an agonizing squirming crawl up the bed, he found his way to Sir’s cock. But still Sir did not help him. Sir only moved his hand to make room for Cole’s lips.

With some effort, he bobbed his head, slowly working his way down the shaft, taking more and more of it. His hips rolled against the bed, his thighs already shaking. He felt more helpless now than he had over the past weeks, awkwardly trying to take that shaft into his throat when he could barely move. Finally, his lips wrapping around the base of Sir’s cock, he found he couldn’t pull back. He tried, but he didn’t have the right leverage. His head bobbed slightly, but he couldn’t sit back up with that thick shaft in his throat. He tried to whimper, instead gagging around the intrusion.

Finally, Sir grasped him by the hair, pulling his head back. He sucked in a breath, droll falling down his chin. He squirmed against the grip as it arched his back a little too far. “Please…” he breathed out, not sure what he was asking for. “Please, Daddy…” The word cut off with a whimper, his hips rocking. “Daddy, please!” His cheeks burned, red hot.

Sir guided his head back to that waiting cock. Cole took the head in his lips, giving it all the attention he could. Slowly, Sir pushed his head down, and he took it all once more. Sir pulled him back again, but barely gave him a chance to get a breath before pushing him down again. It wasn’t long before Sir was moving his head like his own personal cock sleeve, jerking himself off with Cole’s mouth. All the while each time his head came up, his back arched and pressed his cock against the mattress. Being used and being forced to hump the bed at the same time. All the while he had no way to stop it. The edges of the world seemed to grow fuzzy, and focus only on the cock in his mouth and the cock against the bed. A feedback loop of pleasure as Sir groaned. Cole did not exist. He was just a ball of need and a hole to be fucked. The only thing that existed in his head was an ongoing chant of “Good boys don’t cum,” the only thing keeping him from giving in.

Soon, liquid heat exploded against the back of his throat, his face buried against Sir’s groin. All he could do was let it slide down his throat and over his tongue.

Sir pulled him back, drool and cum dripping over his chin. He closed his mouth finally, trying to swallow what he could.

“…Daddy…” he breathed out.

“Good boy,” Sir said, wiping his chin.

That’s when time started to shift in ways he didn’t bother to understand. Most of what Sir did to him blurred together, but there were moments like that which seemed to last so much longer. Arousal and desperation blotted out most things, his inability to find words for anything added to it. He may have found ways to move, but Sir seemed to overtly discourage such things. More and more he was just a thing to be used, and left to writhe under the weight of months without release.

Then one day, everything came into incredibly sharp focus.

“Alright,” Sir said, as he fixed Cole to the table. “That gem’s got about all the charge it can hold. So I think it’s time to reward you for your efforts.” He moved away, toward the storage shelves.

That’s when Cole lay there on the table, barely able to move, questioning just how he came to this moment. His collar was clipped into rings bolted to the table. A thick strap ran over his hips, and one each for his thighs which forced his truncated legs to be splayed open. It wasn’t much, but it made it completely limited his movement. Thinking back over the past months, he couldn’t imagine what sort of reward Sir could mean. He’d long since given up the idea of an orgasm, just as his mantra reminded him. He’d given up any idea of even reclaiming what Sir had taken. And as he saw Sir returning with the boxes and stone, he realized just how much he _didn’t_ want them.

“But if I’m going to give you your reward,” Sir said, “I have to return these, first.”

Cole shook his head before he could even think it through. He didn’t want them back. He was just getting to where he wanted to be. Truly owned. Separate from himself. If Sir gave him back the other parts of himself, they would have to start over.

“Don’t be silly,” Sir said, stroking his cheek. “I never meant for this to be permanent. Just a little game for us to play.”

Cole let out a long groan, trying to some how get all of what he was feeling out. Even if he had words, he doubted he could explain it. “Please, Daddy!” He howled, tugging at the straps that held him down. He looked to one of the boxes, shaking his head. “ _Daddy._ ” He said, looking up to Sir. “Daddy, please.”

“You want to stay like this?” Sir asked, his brow furrowed.

Cole nodded, emphatically. “Daddy. _Please._ ” It was all he had.

“I can’t get that gem back without giving you an orgasm. And if I give you that, you lose all of this forever. You’d never have your arms, your legs. You’ll never been able to speak anything more. You’d be…you’d be my fuck toy for good.” Something seemed to dawn on him then. As if he finally put it all together.

Cole nodded. “ _Please,_ Daddy.”

“You want to be my limbless fuck toy.” Sir said again, making sure.

Cole nodded again. “Daddy. _Daddy._ Please!”

A smile tugged at Sir’s lips as he leaned back to look Cole over. “Well,” he finally said. “If you insist, who am I to say no?”

He stepped away from the table, to retrieve something from another table. What he returned with looked like a very strange tube. Somewhat transparent, made up of multiple layers. “This is something I’ve been working on that I think we should test out, then.”

He grasped Cole’s cock, slowly pressing the thing to the tip. It stretched wider and wider, sliding down over Cole’s shaft. It hugged him snugly, but not as tight as it seemed it would be. Sir pulled the ends down, securing it behind his balls some how. His hands waved over it as he muttered more of his incantations.

At first, nothing seemed to happen. But then slowly, a thrum seemed to be growing up from inside the sheath. It built stronger and stronger, until his cock itself seemed to be vibrating. His hips jerked, and he let out a desperate whine. He felt something digging into his cock. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but certainly strange. Contact points, pressing against his skin. As they did, it felt like the vibrations some how penetrated deeper. Hips quivered, trying to thrust against the sleeve.

“Goodboysdon’tcum…” he breathed out as if it were one word. Purely on instinct. “Goodboysdon’t…” the words died in his throat with a groan.

Even months of training couldn’t hold anything back under an onslaught like that. The sleeve didn’t seem to just be vibrating, it was ever so slightly sucking at him. As if it were alive. But when he thought the orgasm would claim him, it just kept building. His hips squirmed and tugged at the straps holding him down. All he could utter were small, desperate sounds, unable to find even his scant words for a moment. “Daddy…” he managed, finally. “Daddy…please…”

“I can’t,” Sir said. “This is what you wanted. Good boys don’t want to become living fuck toys, now do they?”

Cole let out a pleading groan.

“Good boys don’t want to be left helpless. Unable to speak. Without limbs. Only filthy little sluts want that.”

The insult shot through Cole, shame burning deep and making him squirm harder.

“That’s all you’ve been. I can see it, now. A desperate little slut, wanting to be used. And that’s all you’ll ever be.”

It was like he knew exactly what to say.

“Now why don’t you show me just how good you _really_ are?”

Cole’s hips shuddered against the table and for the first time in months, he came. It sudden. He wasn’t prepared for it. Everything just went white, his body growing hot. It felt like his entire body just exploded, right there on the table. He ceased to exist as his body shook and spurted into the strange sleeve. Distantly, he heard something break.

As the world came back to him, he could see the boxes on either side of him on the table. Their lids had blown off, puffs of blue smoke still dissipating. The stone holding all of his words split into fragments and crumbling to dust.

He only had a few moments to register this, as the sleeve was still working at him. It wasn’t agonizing, as he’d expected it to be, and it seemed he was already building up again.

“Daddy…” he gasped out.

“The real purpose of that little device,” Sir said. “It does away with that irritating little period of over sensitivity. Ingenious, really. In theory, it could keep you going as long as I wanted you to. Until you were so exhausted you simply _couldn’t_ orgasm any longer.”

“Daddy!” Cole cried, but it choked off his a groan.

Moments later, the sleeve sucked another orgasm out of him. Then another. And another. A rapid cascade of searing, blinding pleasure.

“You have months to make up for, after all…” Sir said, his hands trailing over Cole’s body as it twitched and convulsed. “And it’s going to be your last for a very, _very_ long time…”

Cole’s body shuttered with another orgasm as Sir shifted something on the table. Suddenly, the support under his head vanished, as part of the table folded down, just above the rings that held his collar. With firm hands, Sir pulled Cole’s head back down against it, a strap being pulled across his face, over his eyes. It cinched tight to the table, which must have been locked or secured some how, because he couldn’t move his head.

“…please…” Cole breathed out, his body convulsing again.

“There’s Daddy’s good little fuck toy,” Sir said, running his fingers of Cole’s exposed throat and chin.

A moment later, he felt the tip of Sir’s cock pressing to his parted lips. With the sleeve still sucking and humming, he didn’t have the mental capacity to do anything beyond letting his mouth relax, as Sir pushed inside. But Sir didn’t wait for him to accommodate him. He just thrust inside Cole’s throat, cutting him off mid-breath. Cole’s body jerked, instinctively trying to pull away. But he was held too fast to the table, blind and helpless.

Cole surrendered to it, barely able to breath between the unrelenting orgasm and the thrusting intrusion in his throat.

“If only you could see yourself…” Sir murmured. His fingers played over the pale skin of Cole’s throat above his collar. He grunted with the effort as he thrust again. “The way your throat bulges around Daddy’s cock…” Cole didn’t think it was possible, but he flushed deeper. The way Sir said it. The image it summoned. With how his head was forced back, he could only imagine that the outline of Sir’s cock would be visible through his skin, the ridge of the head, the curve of his shaft. As he imagined it, a powerful orgasm tore through him, his back trying to arch against the strap on his hips. He choked on that shaft, trying to cry out around it. He could feel hot tears leaking out behind the strap over his eyes. His whole body too overwhelmed to contain it.

“The way—” Sir thrust harder. “—a fuck toy—” His hands planted on Cole’s chest, holding him down that much more. “—should—” Thrusting deep and hard. “—be!” He pushed in as deep as he could, Cole’s nose buried in his balls. Cole twitched, his body torn apart by the effort to breathe and the unyielding demand of the sleeve. Even still, he was all too aware of Sir’s cock convulsing his his throat, pumping out cum, deep inside him.

Finally, Sir pulled away, leaving Cole gasping for breath as he tried to swallow at the same time. Every inch of him of him throbbed. Some parts demanded it all stop, other parts demanding more. He felt Sir’s hands at long last prying the sleeve free. Dimly, he was aware that his own cum didn’t fall free of it when it was removed. Shouldn’t it have been filled by now? Even as the mind-numbing vibrations finally left him, aftershocks still shot through him. His cock still leaked as it finally started to droop. He felt raw. Exhausted. Used.

He felt exactly how he’d always hoped he would.

“No you stay put,” Sir said. “We’ve got a long night ahead of us.”


End file.
